Iris Silver Mist

Iris Silver Mist has been talked about for decades now. I’ve heard it said that this was the modern iris to give permission to and enable all the modern iris perfumes afterwards that we have today. I’m not enough of a perfume historian to validate or argue that statement, but I have no problem believing it. It will never lose relevancy. I can keep my description of accords brief, there is really only one: orris. Dry, chalky, potatoey, vegetabley, bitter, cold, woody, waxy, musky, etc., it’s every aspect of orris dialed up to the same vocal volume. Roucel piled in every orris material he could find into ISM, and it shows; this iris is photorealistic to an absurd degree, like you can smell in 3D. To make sure all of these aspects were on a level field, Roucel amped them up with a splendid team of materials working behind the scenes, far from the audience of your nose and behind the stage door. Galbanum makes sure the dry, green, and vegetabley aspects get fair due. Balsams make sure the woody vocal notes ring true. Clove makes sure it stays bitter and cold. Musks, benzoin, and labdanum make sure the starchy textures keep you wanting to scratch your tongue, like after drinking strong black tea or a very tannicky red wine. ISM is linear and monodimensional, like most SL perfumes, leading many to question “what’s the big deal? Why the hype?” They are not incorrect, but very close study reveals a masterfully executed perfume of exquisite quality that gave us orris like we didn’t have it before. Enough about that. You can find plenty of wonks to tell you about all of that stuff, and likely a lot better than I can anyway. What is it like for me to wear and smell Iris Silver Mist? Honestly, it is heartbreaking. Every time I wear it I remark at its beauty, but no smile ever hits my face. It get awash in the feeling of wanting to put my head on a loved one’s shoulder and absorb the safety and comfort of their embrace. But this isn’t crocodile tears and wailing, there’s an austerity to it - a stiff upper lip - concealing a truly heartbroken character. My grandmother loved flowers, she grew irises among others, and she loved colors of red and purple. We were close; she was a lovely person whom I dearly loved. When she passed I wore Iris Silver Mist to her funeral. Black suit, with a purple tie for her, and Iris Silver Mist. The perfume reminded me to be austere, strong, and keep a stiff upper lip - but feel the emotions and accept them as well. Like Apres L’Ondee, it’s a perfume I love that precisely pokes at a specific spot in my heart, but I can rarely wear it. It’s strange to think that something I love so much can rarely receive my attention. But there it sits in one of my perfume cabinets, austere and available, ready to lend a shoulder when I need it.

I've Waited So Long... ...And frankly I never thought I'd ever get to smell this perfume, I put it in unreachable/unattainable status...but I have finally procured some and oh my it was worth the wait. I am just in this state of perfume bliss, having worn this. (FN, if you can believe it, had for a short period 30 ml travel/refill bottles in an ugly plastic container for $50) Cold? Distant? Robotic? Aloof? I am not reading any of that. Yes the iris is strong, and rooty, and dry and earthy, but maybe because I absolute love iris all of that soil and earth iris just makes me happy. There's very strong iris surrounded by galbanum and woods, heaps of vetiver and sandalwood, that as a woody green accord act almost sweet on my skin! Seriously the effect is so thick that it's chewy and edible. I adore the way the woods are used here, and gosh the sandalwood smells very authentic, and thank God they didn't just pour a bunch of Ambroxan in and call it "woods." There is this strange halo effect...I can describe it no other way. Beyond the iris powder/earth/soil and greened woods there is a high pitched shimmer of something that I cannot name. Is it the iris producing that "silver" feel? That is what it feels like. It's not cold to me though it just adds to the composition of the perfume. Actually it's amazing that they were able to pull something like that off. ISM is a bit linear but there are some surprises along the way. Occasionally I smell a smooth violet, and once in awhile the iris turns "lipstick" on me, too, along with a soapy bubble bath accord. So there are some things that just jump out. As it wears down the green notes die down and they are replaced by incense. Only into the very far drydown (I'm talking like past 12 hours) the perfume does become a bit sweetly resinous...however this never goes spicy on me (I wish I could smell the clove but I really don't.) Damn this is just beautiful. I could go on all day about how much I love this. The iris here just has every facet that you can think of, it's almost a 3D iris if that makes sense. That and they are using excellent materials for the woody background. Last, the performance is incredible, I only have 30 mls but a few sprays will last over 12 hours, and frankly ISM wears a little loud in the beginning! I have no idea how this smelled when it first came out but it seems to be well taken care of. Now I just have to add this, my spooky/scary/aloof iris perfumes are Hermes Hiris (talk about "I feel like someone just walked over my grave at midnight!") and the older formulation of Annick Goutal's Heure Exquise. I really enjoy dry woody "masculine" perfumes though so I don't read ISM in such an unfriendly manner.

Indescribably impressive iris. For my money the ultimate in purest, starkest, most uncompromising orris that's out there. The only thing fit to touch it is Xerjoff's terrifyingly expensive Irisss, and that one is a far more complex, rounder, more floral and nuanced scent which wears louder and more diva-esque. Whereas ISM is your favourite gothic novel / arthouse cinema heroine, sulking plangently over a fresh, wet grave on a cloudy, cold, damp drizzly winter's day. It's so determinedly pouty and melancholy it's almost a little bit of a parody: "this is my Serious Face". But oh, no matter the scowl, that face is so beautiful that I want to squeeze its little cheeks and kiss it just for existing. One of those perfumes which almost make you wince to sniff, it's so awesomely assured. Yes, it does realistically smell of dirty carrot, roots and geosmin, and the tiniest whisper of spice; but it all still coheres magically into one big mass of mist for me. There's almost no point trying to pick out the notes as they're so blurred (misted?) together so completely masterfully; there's very little evolution; and while the initial sillage is really, really strong, it shrinks within 3-4 h to your own private screening of the most gorgeously miserable black-and-white vintage film ever. It's not perfect, but it's beyond perfection for me. It's just the most astonishingly evocative and consistent iris aura ever formulated, that's all. ISM doesn't care to please you, or not - she is herself, herself only, and a creature and a force of nature. Iris Supreme Majesty. So: if you want a recognisably beautiful, feminine, engagingly extrovert iris scent for good times - definitely not this! No lipstick or powder or fruit at all, and certainly no sense of 'fun' or 'playfulness'. But if you want to smell of the very essence of orris, and maybe more cerebral than you really are: job done. Fascinating, chilly, aloof, mysterious, austere - all that is true. So so moody and downright magnificent, too. There is just no arguing with it. If you have any interest at all in iris, this is the very pinnacle and you HAVE to try it - even if only to define your taste and know it's not for you. But ... it leaves me dumbstruck, almost. Borderline intimidating. Empress of All the Irises, maybe. Kneel and be conquered.

In the opening of this olfactory creation, we perceive the vegetal, green and slightly aniseed notes of galbanum, an umbellifera cultivated mainly in Iran and which contributes to the famous metallic note found in Iris Silver Mist. The word "silver" in the name of the perfume probably refers to this note. After this intriguing start, we quickly notice a slightly earthy carrot smell, which constitutes the other emblematic note of this perfume. With the essence of carrot seed, perfume composer Maurice Roucel strongly highlights the root and underground aspect of the iris rhizome, which now emerges in the composition. This initial evolution is quite unique and remarkable, although it probably needs to be tamed by some people. It has a fairly cold and angular character. From there, the orris progressively takes center stage, accompanied by a hint of violet, and nuanced by a touch of clove. Since Roucel is said to have integrated every material evoking orris into his formula, we can assume that it is ionone-alpha – a material which also has a fruity and woody accent — which brings the floral note of violet that we now perceive and which softens the perfume. Likewise, orivone was undoubtedly integrated into the formula, adding a dry woody aspect to the heart, in addition to offering a camphor effect, noticed earlier, at the head of the development. The softness we begin to perceive at the heart of the perfume mingles with the butteriness inherent to orris. I wonder if this greasy effect has been slightly accentuated by a costus accord — a plant whose root has been used to produce an odorous substance (allergenic, therefore now banned) which evokes, among other things, greasy hair, earth and plaster. At this point, the perfume gradually loses its initial austerity, and it is now softness and melancholy that dominate the emotions evoked by Iris Silver Mist; emotions typical of iris based perfumes. In addition, and although we do not necessarily perceive them individually, incense, labdanum, benzoin, sandalwood and musks all contribute, in the base notes, to this soft effect.

Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens. I believe this is a cult classic by now, to me, not a perfume, but bottled emotion. This is a very aloof and cold perfume that somehow instills that feeling in you. Even today it is hard for me to think that Roucel created this. I never had guessed. It feels more like a Lutens and Sheldrake potion of sorrow. It should not be analyzed technically, but rather, emotionally. I never wear this except for myself. If I'd wear it, it would have to be all black, suited up. The composition exploits the most bitter, chalky, and earthy facets of orris, and it amplifies them with the help of aptly chosen notes and accords such as vetiver, galbanum, clove, frankincense, and cedar. There is a hint of resins in the base, like the promise that will never be fulfilled. It is pointless to talk about notes here, as there are only accords, only whispered suggestions. The opening is cold and bracing, bitter, and somehow metallic. Like tasting the thick fog during a cold Winter night. Then the frozen earth speaks to you. Rooty orris, like pulling the rhizomes from the bounds of the earth only to have them shatter into our hands, fragile as ice thorns. At last, cedarwood only reinforces the geometry of ice blocks with its naturally sharper profile, the frankincense circles back to the imagery of thick fog, while the faint resins almost seem to call to the pale moonlight, trying to guide your way through the cold, foggy night. Cold and poised, beautiful and aloof. In my mind, if Bram Stoker's Dracula had a signature scent, it would have been Iris Silver Mist. It is one of those perfumes that everyone passionate about this hobby should at least try once, although it might require extensive exploration to fully grasp. IG:@memory.of.scents